Bleeding Out
by TheRedHerring760
Summary: "Red" she whispers, and on that breathless exhale she knows her fingers were very slowly prying off the proverbial edge. (One-Shot)


Disclaimer : I own absolutely 0% of the Blacklist. These are stolen toys from Brokenkamp's treasure trove. I'm just borrowing them, giving them a go, and then I promise they will be returned in their proper positions once finished. I also do not own the lyrics / song this story was inspired by, it belongs to Imagine Dragons.

Fair Warning : As this stands it's Major!Character Death fic. I wanted to be the brave soul who crossed _that_ line; and if GRRM taught me one thing, it is to never be afraid to kill the thing you love most.

With Love and Deep Apologies,

Red Herring

* * *

_Oh you tell me to hold on, _

_oh you tell me to hold on, _

_But the innocence is gone, and what was right is wrong_

_Cause I'm bleeding out, So if the last thing that I do_

_is to bring you down, I'll bleed it out for you._

_So I bare my skin, and I count my sins_

_and I close my eyes and I take it in._

_and I'm bleeding out..._

_I'm bleeding out for you (for you)_

_- Imagine Dragons_

* * *

"Is it done?" she questions, her voice far-flung and distracted. When he nods an affirmative she feels her legs collapse beneath her. Feels the ground begin to crumble under her heavy fallen knees. It felt like walls began to close around her, as she zoned out. A shooting pain, localizing and erupting all at once. Erupting out in bolts of electricity, burning through her veins and externally across her skin. "I've been shot." she gasps out, the panic that she was able to conceal when the damn thing first rebounded into her several moments ago, reaching its head and exploding. It was easier to forget it existed when she was high on adrenaline, but now...

Liz's eyes went wide as she stood on her knees. One hand dropping her weapon the other slipping under the open flap of her coat, clutching and absorbing the hot sticky substance which kept her alive. Her breathing became shallow, coming and going in short labored gasps. When she pulled her hand away, saw the amount of blood on her palm. She quickly begins to pull her arms out of the sleeves of her coat, dropping it beside her. Glancing at how far it stained down her shirt, blending into her pants and down her leg, Liz toppled over. Her back stinging and causing a ricochet of pain into her bullet wound as it slapped against the concrete.

Liz felt like she was watching her world as it began shattering around her.

The seconds stretched on like hours.

One instant Red is with the Adversary's dead body, and the next she is staring up at him with her head encased in his hands "Red," she whispers, and on that breathless exhale she knows her fingers were very slowly prying off the proverbial edge. Another moment of her life dwindles away in silence as he just stared down at her, reaching to grab her discarded jacket and balling it. "It's not your fault, Red. This isn't your fault." she utters as he gently lifted and then laid her head downward to the makeshift pillow he created. His hands gripped the two folds of her shirt where the first button joined. There is no time to object, as the sounds of exploding buttons sprinkle and scatter around her in the blink of an eye. Modesty was something she lacked the ability to possess as his hand roamed her skin examining around the wound. His fingers apply pressure to the trauma without warning, and in instant reaction a piercing scream rips from her lungs.

"Ah God," Liz expels as she begins tossing around, fully panicking after she looked down at her blood soaked stomach. Struggling against Red's arms trying to hold her still "I don't want to die." she croaks as reality began soaking in, as tears begin to pool in her eyes. She watches as the crimson surrounded her, "It's too much blood, there's too much blood." her body was convulsing; and Liz was unsure whether it was from her terror or from the internal wound. The pain in itself wasn't so bad, it was the burning. The burning sensation was like something she has never felt.

And she was touched by fire once before.

"It hurts," her voice quivered "God, it hurts so bad Red." her hand finds his that was pressing into her leaking body, and grips his wrist tightly. If her life was a vessel it was sinking rapidly, she was sure. Her tears were clouding her view of his face, and all she wanted was to see his eyes. She wanted to see his focused, and calm eyes that always told her more than his vague words ever could. She ached for him to tell her it wasn't as bad as it looked, that everything will be fine. She choked on her sobs and struggled to breathe steadily. His fingers wiped at her tears, and shushed her quietly. His voice softly guiding her breathing as he gently spoke _In, and out _over and over.

"I'm dying Red." Liz whispers back to him once she had calmed.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Red's voice was of cold steel, with a face made of chiseled stone. Of which was the normal attributes that she grew accustom to. But his eyes... his eyes that she longed to see reassurance in, were absolutely frantic. They were impossibly dark, with an unadulterated sense of alarm that shown through. It caused her heart to constrict tightly in her chest. "Dying is not an option." he tries to smile at her, but it comes out more like a grimace than the comforting gesture he tried to impart.

She hears heavy boots running toward them, snapping against the pavement in sharp thuds. She turns her head to see Dembe appear out of the shadowed area and move quicker toward the both of them. She can just make out the sounding of words, but she lacked focus to grasp their meanings. Everything sounded drowned out and underwater.

"You are going to be fine Liz. Help is coming." Dembe speaks when she met his eyes, watched silently as he removed his shirt, and fell down next to Red, wadding it and then replacing Red's hand with the material and a slightly firmer amount of pressure.

She shakes her head in objection, emitted "No," repeatedly. Both sets of eyes looking at her questioningly. "This is always how it was meant to end." Liz hears herself say as if she was splitting from her body and watching the scene from afar. Red's eyes narrow, and Dembe's looked almost sympathetic like she touched on something unspeakable and he knew a fury awaited her. But she pushed on anyway, if she was dying she was going to speak truthfully. "It's the ending that I reasoned with for so long. It's oh..." she cringes through a spark of pain, stares upward into the naked sky, sighing only when it passes. Turning her head she meets Red's piercing stare, " it's okay." Liz hope's it sounded confident and less decorated with the fear she truly had of her impending future.

"I don't know what gave you that impression. But I'll have you know it was never my motive to use your life against him in any instance. To stand there and let you die... Lizzie, I never wanted you to die." He grows angry, all his calm stoney features snapping into rage at once and Liz isn't sure if it's directed at her or himself. "And you're not dying tonight."

She doesn't speak back to him, to reaffirm his positivity of her chance of survival. He wasn't feeling what she was, so she gazes back upward. Observes the cold empty sky, the stars had a new clarity to them; they shone brighter or maybe the night was darker. She inhaled sharply, and was intoxicated by the smell of Red's cologne that radiated off him every time the light breeze would blow toward them. Her body wasn't burning as badly as before, instead she felt incredibly cold. "I'm cold." she acknowledges breaking the silence.

Red wastes little time in removing his suit jacket. Even when she begins to protest his action trying to stop him from ruining it. "Don't be ridiculous." he mutters and lays it over her exposed stomach, tucking it gently up under her arms. Encasing her now under that captivating smell.

Her eyes begin to slip shut as she concentrates on Red's fingers threading through her hair. "Do you remember-" She questions, lifting a frail hand upward and catching his wrist, stopping his gentle caresses. Pulling his hand, she interlocked their fingers together and held on with whatever strength she could muster. "Do you remember when we were in Sydney? So many years ago." he nods and instructs Dembe to apply more pressure to her wound. When she laughs it sounds hollow, "It was the third time-" her lip quivers and she bites down, worrying the skin. _Deep Inhale, shallow exhale, deep inhale_... "It was the third time you manipulated me into a date." she smiles grimly, the shaking was gradually increasing once again, and she struggled to control it by focusing on what she wanted to express. "You took me to see an opera singer..."

"Anna Netrebko." his free hand skims down her cheek and she turns into his light touch. Keeping her eyes open was a burden, and as Liz felt them shutter close she felt Red tense."Hey... " he pleads, gripping her chin. "I know its hard, but you have to stay awake."

"I'm bleeding out." she sighs, squeezing their joined hands "And I don't want you to blame yourself Red." she requests but he doesn't answer and his eyes couldn't seem to look at her, not fully. She was tethering on the edge of complete darkness. Her body had now gone numb, minus the shaking, and if life experiences and _Saving Private Ryan _had taught her anything. She knew it was getting closer to the rounds of morphine and quiet goodbyes. "you need to leave-" her eyes close, "before they get here, you have to disappear."

"I have no plans on leaving you."

His hands were trembling, when she first felt it she assumed it was transferred energy from her own vibration. But the tone of his voice as he spoke, the dread in his eyes. Red himself was shaking. He was trying to remain strong for her, but Red was slowly crumbling. She is overcome with raw emotion, and sudden unexplainable anger.

She couldn't die knowing he would spend his life in a prison, because she was unlucky enough to draw a stray bullet. "When they come for me, you will be imprisoned. You know your immunity is a piece of shit!" she slams her fist into the concrete floor. "Please Red... go." he shakes his head and pulls her up, resting her against his chest. An awkward position considering Dembe who was still clutching the bleed. She nuzzles her face into his vest, even though it was caked in blood it still smelt of him. His scent always having an ability to calm her, it became a safety net and she clung to it even now. Her moods were shifting like a hurricane on a path of destruction, and she didn't know if she should remain upset, or just let it go.

Liz turned her ear directly over his heart listing to the unsteady thumping. This was one thing he couldn't control. The beating of his heart told her the internal narrative of his hope of her survival slipping further out of his grasp. "I-" she begins but hesitates before drawing the conclusion she had nothing left to lose. "I need you to kiss me." is said so quietly she may not have said, so much as she thought it. There is a transient moment of utter silence, and then darkness as she slips out of herself.

"What?" he leans down, the shell of his ear almost touching her lips. "Lizzie... Focus." he shakes her lightly, and when that wasn't efficient he began to slap her cheek gently, even in dire need Red couldn't inflict physical pain onto her.

She is desperate as she fights the pull of oblivion. Shadows were appearing around them, shadows that looked a lot like Sam and Hudson.

Over in the distance, the figure resembling Sam kept mouthing something but she couldn't quite hear him, couldn't quite make out the words. But Liz knew why they were here; they were coming to take her away, to guide her safely to whatever awaited after death. They were the separation from life and death, leaving it up to her to decide whether or not to join them. They stood their distance, as she just watched, as Red kept mumbling words to snap her out of her suspension of reality.

Though Sam's influence was far more potent.

She could see winter in Nebraska. Feel the stark coldness that seeped into your bones no matter how many layers you wore. Could smell Christmas morning, and fresh fallen snow in the air. Hear the crackling firewood; the way the trees shivered, and rustled breaking the silence of the night. Her father was offering her something she only dreamed of since he had left. It was a promise... it was Home.

Red's presence was the last hook keeping her from leaving her body and running off with them. She couldn't bear thinking of the guilt he would have should she die right now in his arms, it plagued her and caused her to fight a little harder. She could offer him that at least, one last fight. He needed to know how she felt, her time was limited. This toe to toe battle with death and life was no longer at a standstill.

"8 years," Liz spoke watching as Sam, Hudson and Nebraska vanish just as quickly as they appeared. She coughs, pulling her attention from the distance onto to him. Raising a blood soaked hand up to touch his face, Liz traced the lines down his jaw, it was a gruesome image she was painting onto him, but she longed to touch him. "8 years is an awfully long time, to hide the way you feel for someone. I should have told you in Sydney when I knew things were changing... I should have done so much more after that, instead of stubbornly conceal-" she coughs a more heckling cough now, and could taste a tang of iron on the back of her throat. "Red..." he doesn't respond as her fingers wrap around the nape of his neck "Kiss me." salty tears wash down her cheeks and onto her lips, it's only when she tastes them that Liz realizes she is sobbing. "Don't make a dying woman beg Red, I want to know... no I... I need to know what it feels like, even if it is just this once." she pleads, rubbing her thumb from side to side "You died, albeit for a few short moments. Kiss me and tell me everything is fine._ Lie to me._"

"No. This isn't goodbye Lizzie." he murmurs and cradles her head, gazing down at her. There is a shade of red in the whites of his eyes. Tears that wish to be shed, but his control was stronger than any human had the right to boast. Whatever he hoped to convey in that look, was lost upon her as volcanic anger rose.

The pain of the bullet wasn't half as severe as the pain of his rejection. "Then go," she demands, the outburst giving her an ounce of strength as Liz desperately tries to shift out of his hold. "Go! I don't want you here." she kicks her legs, gripping her boot into the ground and pushing back. But Red and Dembe were stronger than her ailing body and had no trouble keeping her grounded. "Get out of here, you know there isn't freedom beyond this point _Reddington, _and it's you're best interest that's always at hand. Freedom is what you wanted. So go... be _free." _her words were detached, and laced with condemnation "You received what you wanted from all this, and at least _you_ have closure. It would have been a bloody shame had _you_ died before you were granted that. So let me die alone... as I should, it's as I always have been, and as I am now._"_ Her hands try to push Dembe's off her "Let go! Let me die Dembe!" she screams, violently kicking her legs.

There was a fatal repercussion with her heart beating faster in her rage, it began pushing blood that remained out harder. She could feel it, could feel her pulse begin to slow in exhaustion.

"Lizzie, you are my best interest." He pauses, staring at her longingly. "You were never alone, you will never be alone, you have me remember?" His slips his fingers through her hair, and expands them across the back of her head, cradling her like a child. He angles her head upward, drawing her eyes onto his. "Now. Stop fighting, you're going to bleed out faster than you already are. You have to not give up hope. Help is coming."

She clenches her jaw, and takes a breath. That boost of energy fueled by rage and adrenaline deteriorated so suddenly she felt limp and lifeless "I don't have that much more to give." She was weaker now than ever before. His thumb sliding over her bottom lip causes her eyes to flutter, and while she wanted to remain angry she softened like warmed putty beneath his caring touch. "I can't feel... anything," her voice was frail as she spoke, his calloused fingers gliding from her chin, to moving back and forth along her jaw. "I can't fight anymore. I'm-" she breathes, her head loosely falling into him "Tired of fighting."

"Can't you hear them in the distance Lizzie?" he softly spoke down to her, adjusting his hold onto her. Red began to rock back and forth. She blinked up at him, and every blink grew slower and slower until her eyes threatened to remain shut. "A little bit longer."

"I can't-"

"Yes you can." Red's voice is so faraway, and Sam's seemed so much closer now. Liz could finally hear the words she couldn't before... _Come on home Butterball _he waved his arm in his direction and Hudson appeared to bark in agreement. _You don't have to suffer any longer..._

"Sam wants to take me home, Red." she whispers through lidded eyes. "You have to let me go."

His forehead falls upon hers, the tips of their noses pressed together. Liz could feel his every breath coming out effortlessly in comparison to her own. "We didn't come this far to give up." his voice is thick with despair, his fingers that touch her feel more like a ghost than the hands of the man who actually was a ghost.

Sam crouched opposite Red, with her in between like a divider, gripping her arm and pulling her away. She turns her head toward Sam and his gentle face, the tenderness that radiated off him. Sam's words fighting against Red's demands to remain with him, left her in a sort of limbo.

Neither here nor there.

She whimpers as her hand weasels up between their bodies and cups his cheek. "Red. Will you just promise me at least this one thing," he was truly shaking now as he nods into her palm "Mourning me is one thing," Liz pauses, and gathers her emotions, stops the sobs that threaten to ruin her ability to speak. It was her turn to be the one in control, the one who could be strong. "Just don't carry me as a burden. There was nothing you could have done." her voice was nothing more than a wisp in the night's air. "Fate-"

She feels his lips press softly onto hers ceasing Liz's final words into the back of her throat, they glide ever so gently as if he felt it would break her if he applied a firmer pressure. She slides her tongue over the bottom of his lip, and as he begins to deepen the kiss; Sam continued to beckon her. Their lines of separation kept getting thinner and thinner. When he pulls away there are tears that leave tiny pink trails into the mess she made earlier. She gently wipes them away. "I'm okay." she smiles, and she truly meant it. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Hold on... just hold on a little longer." Red begs desperately.

But she feels herself losing her grip, her eyes shut one final time, as that last finger's grasp scrapes down the decaying edge. Her breaths were coming few and far between as her heart began to slow. Red's desperate pleas dissolved into a somber blanket of utter silence.

_It's time to let go completely Butterball._

The last and only words she heard clearly.

* * *

_I don't have a BETA so any mistakes were mine alone. I read through this over and over, and cleaned it up as best as I could. But honestly I think my grammar-flaw detection is askew because my brain is seeing the words I wish to see now. _

_This is also my very first fanfiction (ever) and I am so very self-conscious of my work. I am very apprehensive even posting it now. I need a glass of wine..._

_If you are inclined to Review, (good or bad) please do._

_Again I appologize for this. I'm so very sorry, but at least it's Monday! so there is that._

_- Red Herring_


End file.
